


at what hour my heart is to be ready to greet you

by LuckyDiceKirby



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M, truly excessive literary references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-06-04
Packaged: 2018-04-02 21:26:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4074436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuckyDiceKirby/pseuds/LuckyDiceKirby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is an Orlesian book meant for children in the library of the Hawke estate. Fenris reads it twice. Or: Fenris doesn't really know how to feel about <i>The Little Prince</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	at what hour my heart is to be ready to greet you

The day had been a long one: Hawke had trekked across what felt like the entire Wounded Coast, clearing out bandit after bandit, and his entourage had not shut up for a single moment the entire day. It had seemed like a good idea at the time to bring Merrill, Anders, and Fenris along. More mages meant more fireballs and therefore more dead bandits, and Fenris would have probably shown up anyway if Hawke had not asked him to come. He had started doing that, as of late, as if he did not quite trust Hawke not to get himself killed in his absence.

Hawke would tell him that he'd done just fine for twenty-eight years without a handsome elf watching his back, but then of course he might lose the handsome elf watching his back, which would really be a shame.

The upshot was that Anders had sniped at Fenris and Fenris had sniped back all day long, and then the both of them had sniped at Merrill until she finally snapped back at them. Hawke would have to go talk to her tomorrow. Anders didn't really register anything Fenris said as an insult anymore, but Merrill tended to take it to heart. Hawke sighed, and tipped his head back against his chair. His lovely, comfortable chair, alone in front of his desk, and without anyone arguing at all. He smiled for the five minutes or so he could stand the silence, and then he got up to find Fenris. 

He had come home with Hawke, but had disappeared sometime while Hawke was bathing to get rid of all the damned Wounded Coast sand. That had become a habit lately as well—Fenris following him home, Hawke not saying anything about it because then he might leave. Previous experience told Hawke than Fenris was in either the kitchen or the library, and after poking his head into the kitchen and greeting Orana (and inquiring into the dinner preparations, because killing bandits was hungry work), Hawke found Fenris in the library, curled up in a chair and reading a slim red volume that Hawke hadn't seen in years.

Maker, but he wanted to kiss him. One of these days, Hawke thought. He really wasn't made for all this dancing around the issue. 

Hawke dragged another armchair over until it was a few inches away from the one Fenris sat at, and peered over his shoulder at the book. Fenris shut it, and looked up, eyebrow raised. "Something you need, Hawke?" he asked, one corner of his mouth tipping up.

"Just a concerned teacher, wondering how his pupil is doing," Hawke said innocently. Fenris rolled his eyes.

"Reading a book meant for children. Nothing especially exciting."

Hawke grinned at him. "A book is a book, Fenris. I remember that one, you know—an Orlesian chantry sister back in Lothering gave it to me when we were young. Carver was jealous that she'd given it to me and not him, but Bethany was the one who really liked it. I remember finding it confusing, but that's Orlesians for you, isn't it?"

"Of course," Fenris said. "I can see how a book without any dogs or mud might confuse a Fereldan."

"I'm hurt," said Hawke lightly. "Do you like it, then?"

Fenris furrowed his brow, and he opened the book once more. "I don't know," he said, turning a few pages. "It's about ship captain who becomes stranded, and a young prince that he meets. The prince is spoiled, and unhappy. There is a rose, and fox." Fenris looked up from the book and met Hawke's eyes. "Tell me," he said. "How does one tame a mabari?"

Hawke raised an eyebrow. "Most say it's the other way around—a mabari tames _you_."

"Yes," Fenris said absently, looking back down at the book. "They choose their masters, do they not?"

That wasn't really where Hawke thought this conversation was going, although maybe he shouldn't be surprised. "They certainly aren't afraid to let you know when they're displeased, believe me." There was a soft _whuff_ from where the dog lay curled up in the corner of the room, and Hawke laughed.

"Would you like me to read to you, Hawke?" 

"I'm always happy to hear you read, Fenris." It was true. Fenris read slowly, but his voice was beautiful.

" _'What does that mean, to tame?' asked the little prince. 'It means to establish ties,' said the fox. 'To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world._

_If you tame me, it will be as if the sun came to shine on my life. I shall know the sound of a step that will be different from all the others. Other steps send me hurrying back underneath the ground. Yours will call me, like music, out of my burrow. And then look: you see the grain-fields down yonder? I do not eat bread. Wheat is of no use to me. The wheat fields have nothing to say to me. And that is sad. But you have hair that is the color of gold. Think how wonderful that will be when you have tamed me! The grain, which is also golden, will bring me back the thought of you. And I shall love to listen to the wind in the wheat. Please, tame me,' he said._ "

For a moment, it was quiet, save for the crackling of the fire. Hawke, for once in his life, held his tongue.

"Do you think that makes one less a slave?" Fenris asked, finally. "If one asks for it?" 

There's no good way to answer that, Hawke thought. He didn't say that. Maker, but speaking with Fenris was like a minefield sometimes. "It's about friendship, Fenris," he said. "Not ownership."

"Sometimes," said Fenris, "I do not know if I can feel the difference. I am bound to you now as surely as I was ever bound to Danarius."

Hawke wanted to find Danarius and wring his neck. He wanted to throw his staff into the fire and watch it burn to ashes, promise Fenris that he was no magister, would never become what Fenris hated. He wanted Fenris to stop talking. "That's not what I want," he said. "Fenris. You know that's not what I want."

Fenris shrugged, birdlike on his thin shoulders. "It's what I want that I worry about, Hawke, not what you want." He looked up. "I look at mages now, and I think of Danarius, sometimes. Sometimes, I think of you. I don't hate them so much, then. Perhaps it is for the better. But perhaps not."

They were quiet, for a time. Hawke's heart felt heavy in his chest, and when Fenris put the book down to leave, he thumbed through it, and cursed himself for not giving it to Carver, all those years ago. 

-

Two weeks later, they were set upon by slavers outside the city, and Fenris sought out Hadriana. They had a lovely night together, and Fenris left before morning, and nothing Hawke said came even close to stopping him. Fenris no longer followed him home in the evenings, and no longer sat in his library reading.

Varric seemed to be continuing his reading lessons now and then at The Hanged Man. Hawke bit back any comments about what kind of reading material Varric might be offering Fenris when Varric mentioned this, as insulting any of Varric's novels was not something a wise man did. He Varric to tell him a story instead. 

It was a bawdy one, ridiculous and very distracting, because Varric could be nosy, but he was a good friend. 

\- 

Three years changed many things, but when left alone in Hawke's estate, Fenris still found his way into the library. 

Fenris' sister was gone and Danarius was dead, and Fenris had stopped running away from Hawke. 

It was nice. Experience had taught Hawke that nice things did not last, and so he lived them to the fullest. He sat at the foot of Fenris' chair, head against his leg, and enjoyed his company for as long as he could have it. 

"I wanted to thank you," Fenris said.

"Hmm," said Hawke. "For what? I am a very generous man. If it's for allowing you to gaze upon my fearsome good looks, fear not: that is a service I provide all of Kirkwall free of charge."

"Sometimes I wonder why everyone seems so intent upon killing you," said Fenris. "This is not one of those times."

Hawke laughed. "I figure at this point it's too late to stop them, so why not keep myself entertained? But you were thanking me."

"Perhaps now I will rescind it," Fenris said, but then he continued to speak. "You have been...patient with me. I do not deserve it, but I do appreciate it."

"You deserve it, Fenris," said Hawke. "And it was much more interesting to inch closer and closer to you each day, than it would be to do the same to a fox."

"So you did read that book, after all," said Fenris.

"It is my book. I wasn't going to use it as a plate." 

Fenris chuckled. "So it is. I think of it often."

"It's still here," said Hawke. "Well, somewhere. I think Sandal rearranged all the books last week, they're not really in any specific order anymore."

Fenris got up to fetch it, finding it much more quickly than Hawke would have. He sat back down and paged through it for a few long minutes. Eventually, he read to Hawke again. " _'Goodbye,' said the fox. 'And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.'_ "

Hawke laughed. "Is this an apology, Fenris?"

Fenris simple nudged him with his leg, and continued to read: "' _Men have forgotten this truth,' said the fox. 'But you must not forget it. You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed._ '"

Hawke stopped laughing. His throat felt tight. He reached a hand up, and squeezed Fenris' knee. 

"I'm not good at fancy speeches, you know," he said, voice a little rough. "Inevitably I make a stupid joke and it's very embarrassing for everyone." He paused, for a moment. "You know it's not just you, Fenris. I think of you when you're not there. I used to hate the taste of lyrium potions, but now they remind me of you. And we are responsible for each other's hearts. It goes both ways."

"Sometimes I think—it seems a cruel way to live," said Fenris, quietly. "So tied to another."

"Love is cruel sometimes," said Hawke. "But my world is brighter for having you in it. It seems a fair trade, doesn't it? Now my lyrium potions taste better, and you hate mages a little less, and as a team maybe we can stop Isabela from cheating at Wicked Grace."

Fenris slid down out of the chair to sit beside Hawke on the floor. He rested his head against Hawke's shoulder. "Stop talking," he said, smiling. "The stupid jokes have begun."

Hawke would not have been able to stop himself from saying 'make me', having exhausted his sincerity for the evening, but perhaps Fenris knew that, because he kissed Hawke before he had the chance.

When they broke apart, Fenris said, "It is worth it. To know I am not alone. You are unique in all the world, Hawke."

**Author's Note:**

> My excuse for this is that it was almost entirely written after 2 am. The excerpts of the _The Little Prince_ that Fenris reads are from Chapter 21 (the title is pulled from there as well). I cut it down a bit to avoid quoting the entire chapter.
> 
> Leliana probably kicked herself later for giving her copy away to that Hawke kid, because then she couldn't read it to the Warden to woo her. The story about the constellations was good too though.
> 
> come find me on [tumblr](http://luckydicekirby.tumblr.com) and cry about dragon age with me!


End file.
